My mind feels like a graveyard of trees.
Every fruit of confidence I bear
withers away into a thing of
self doubt.

And because it is the only fruit I know,
I indulge myself in eating it,

And because you are what you eat,
I too, eventually wither away.

So many human beings
Falling through the cracks of society
Parts of every generation
Simply lost
And as the cracks grow wider
More and more fall through
Falling into despair
They exist
Lost from the rest

And within their lives
They have little of anything
As others seem to have it all
Naturally they grow restless
Believing nothing will change
And the younger angrier ones
Become faithless and lawless
Becoming darkly feral
So many human beings
Lost

                          By Phil Roberts

Folder: When the going gets tough
Oh drama please just *******!

i DONT KNOW HOW YOU FIND ME

i DONT CARE.

I would very much like for conflict to resolve

but in my sphere always seem to revolve.

I turn my back on you, though its only a temporary measure

because you are not one to be denied your pleasure.

you sick stalker **** mistress of distress and bad luck,

you come in guns blazing

and you catch me unawares

you call out jealousy

pride

and mis understanding

a gulity line up in this dramatic parade

but its you I most revere when you are giving someone else a hell of a year,

I am officially breaking up with you.

dont try to find me

I am passionately in love with compassion

and I will die rather than leave this heaven.

thankyou for being my depth stick

I would never have seen how beautiful my new love is

if it wasnt for all your selfish darkness.

kind regards

SS

Hold up

Enough of this bird drip

Wipe your nose and look up

Pathetic blind mice play 2 wise sheep

The artificial heart beeps

While yours bleeds

Your blood is coin

A fools folly of *****

Your child sacrificed

Cut to pieces and torn

Yet for the afflictedbstrangers you mourn

For animals you weep

Some to **** some to keep

Scientific lies poison your mind

Call the message fear

Call the message hate

Call the message division

God does not exist

Re-call the message

Re-call the message

Re-call the message

Fall asleep zombie

Fall asleep sheep

The lion sleeps tonight

The red dragon stalks

Green eyed monster

Gives birth to the invisible beast

A burden

Gray matter feeding artificial martyrs

You can do it yourself only you can't

You can be free only youre not

Poked with incessant panic

Prodded with incessant fear

Switch off

Recall the message

Recall the message

Recall the message

We are not saved in this world but the next

Unless...

Still, in the fourth quarter
Disabled, a depressed hoarder
Permeation meets ideation
Tectonic joints sliding away
Collapsing Ebony Atlas
In ruin and decay
Water and rock erode away
Foundation, damaged
Weakened support
Overwhelm and pressure
Leading to the break
Dreaming about the long sleep
Paralyzed while awake

It was forty years ago today,
In New York where he longed to stay;
At the doors to his apartment rise,
With devil's envy rising in his eyes;
He imagined his confusion wasn't wrong;
Then the curtain in the tower tore,
The Cavern shook beneath its floor,
And the needle scratched across our songs.

I want to let him rest in peace,
Still waiting at the end of his road.

The assassin doesn't seek release,
And it doesn't really matter Bro.
For John is dead, and
And we're a bit lonelier now.

Pained with a sadness I have never known
A dagger driving into the core of my soul
As I let go of everything
Yet a calmness washes over me
Something guiding me
Its not my own
I'm noticing things differently
The way the breeze dances softly with everything it touches
The scents that are heightened
The smell of rain before the storm
Clipped grass on a hot summers day
Perfume that lingers long after they've gone
I'm not in a daze
simple pleasures are filling me with more
I don't have to be ok
I'm not sure I ever will be the same again

We sit around my aunts brown kitchen table
A scene we’ve done a thousand times before where I slinked unnoticed behind my hair until it was turn to recite my yearly accomplishments.
Back into the shadows.
This time is different.
This time my father is dead.
Suicide.
He went missing 24 hours before.
“Your fathers illness took him”
He was diagnosed with a neurological disease months prior.
We never spoke.
No it didn’t, my brain screamed.
Suicide.
I run to the kitchen in panic trying to find clonizapam which I almost never take cause I’m afraid of pills.
“What are you taking, doing drugs won’t numb your pain”.
He’s a cop, of course anxiety meds would be seen as “drug addiction”.
“I’m having a panic attack” I muster, angrily from the displaced shame.
I don’t take the pill out of spite and we don’t say anything on the 30 minute drive to his house.
I’m probably sheet white, I feel anxious.
I feel nothing.
I haven’t cried.
We had a terrible relationship, dad and I.
Terrible.
Suicide.
Hours pass.
Minutes?
I dunno, I’m dissociating into everyone’s grief.
Stop talking to me.
I don’t want to be here.  
So many unanswered questions, ones I still don’t know nearly a year later.
Silence and awkwardness.
I sit at the head of their table and avoid everyone’s eyes except my little brothers.
They’re all staring at me, finally paying attention to me after so long.
I hate it.
I want to disappear, their eyes like pathetic little daggers of sadness.
Why the **** am I here?
Someone mentions my tattoos.
Yeah.
I have tattoos.
Tattooed hands, and a dead father.
I only cry when my brother does.
Telling him it’s a suicide, a face I’ll never forget and my soul left behind at the death of his innocence.
Nothing left to protect.
Our father is dead.
6 days till the year death anniversary.
I don’t cry as much as I had after the veil finally shattered.
I’ve never known depression like that; though I was able to find myself after severe heartache.
A traumatized youth.
C-ptsd.
Pass me the join, I need to sleep.

These are images that once were
The tan lines stretching across your shoulders;
Like starlight from some supernova;
Your photos in my albums;
Our shadows beneath bright suns;
Those ghosts have come and gone.

Then love became a memory;
And memory is the ghost
That frightens me the most.